


You Never Can Tell

by shessocold



Series: I Told I'd Always Love You, I Always Did, I Always Will [24]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Banter, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Sex, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Canon Compliant, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Drinking & Talking, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Grimmauld Place, Happy Sex, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Second War with Voldemort, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 00:41:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13112109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shessocold/pseuds/shessocold
Summary: Remus has a special present for Sirius' birthday.





	You Never Can Tell

“Sirius?”

Remus unbuttons his coat, moves out of range from the portrait of Mrs Black, and calls out again, louder. 

“Sirius, are you in?” 

“Of course I'm in, Moony, where else could I possibly be? Hi,” says Sirius, appearing rather gloomily on the first floor landing. “I didn't realize you were going to be back today.” 

Remus smiles. 

“How could I not?” he says, starting to climb the stairs. “Of course I had to be here today.” 

Sirius blinks. 

“It's your birthday!” says Remus, putting his arms around Sirius' neck. “Happy birthday, love,” he adds in a whisper, kissing Sirius' stubbly cheek. “I missed you so much.” 

Sirius' whole body relaxes slightly. 

“Oh,” he says, with a small smile of his own. “I didn't realize... I haven't exactly been keeping an eye on the calendar. Well. Thank you! I'm really glad you're here.” 

“Why don't you go dress up a bit?” says Remus, taking in Sirius' slightly disheveled pyjamas. That he's still wearing at half past six in the evening. “I'll make us dinner in the meanwhile.” 

“You're wearing your dress robes,” says Sirius, slightly puzzled, holding Remus' coat open. “Do you want me to wear dress robes too?” 

“If you want to,” says Remus, with a shrug. “It's your birthday, you can do as you please. I just wanted to look nice for you.” 

Sirius smiles broadly. 

“All right. See you downstairs in a bit.” 

** 

Remus is mulling over the minutiae of the table setting – _would fresh flowers be too much?_ – when he hears Sirius' clearing his throat in the doorway. 

“Oh, wow,” he says, taken aback. “You look great.” 

“Thank you," says Sirius, looking pleased. “You look great, too.” 

“Thanks,” says Remus, automatically. He almost can't believe the difference half an hour, a change of clothes and a nice shave made to Sirius' appearance – he looks younger, happier, somehow taller, even. Then it strikes him – _this is Sirius as he would be if he had never gone to Azkaban_. “Where did you get those?” he asks, pointing at Sirius' extremely fancy dark green robes. “I thought yours were scarlet.” 

“These were, er, my father's, I think,” says Sirius, and Remus can tell that he knows perfectly well how nice they look on him, Slytherin colours not-withstanding. “I have no idea what happened to my old ones after I, you know. Prison,” he adds with a grin. Remus wonders if keeping Sirius in clothes that are patently more expensive than Remus' whole cottage is might be the key to Sirius' enduring happiness. “Do you really like these?” 

“You look amazing,” says Remus, truthfully. “Fancy things suit you, they always have. It's a shame you don't have a posh boyfriend to match, actually,” he laments, with an exaggerated sigh. 

“I don't want a posh boyfriend,” says Sirius smoothly. “I want a nice, sexy Welsh bloke who will hopefully suck me off after dinner. As a birthday present, you know.” 

“Well,” says Remus, pretending to check his watch. “If you send him an owl straight away, I reckon he might make it here by the time we're done eating. If he hurries.” 

Sirius laughs. 

“C'mere,” he says, pulling Remus in by the front of his slightly shabby black velvet robes. “I'm so lucky to have you,” he murmurs, kissing Remus' neck. “You're definitely the nicest, sexiest person in the whole world, let alone Wales. Wait, is that... ?” he inquires, suddenly distracted, sniffing at the air coming up from the kitchen. 

“Shepherd's pie, yeah," says Remus, grinning at the transfixed look on Sirius' face. “Honestly, at this point you could learn to cook it yourself, it's not that hard. You could have it every other day if you wanted to.” 

“Ah, but then I would get very fat, you see. I much prefer when it's a special treat from my Moony,” says Sirius, and after that they get so lost in their kiss that they almost let the shepherd's pie burn. 

** 

“I'd never dreamed that I could spend such a pleasant evening in this bloody room,” says Sirius, chasing the last crumbs of his second slice of Bakewell tart. “It's crazy how much of a difference you being here makes.” 

Remus glances around the oppressive, darkly paneled room and pictures a young Sirius having to sit at the table with his horrible family night after night. He feels highly honoured by the remark, and at the same time terribly tactless for not having thought of the fact that Sirius seems to generally avoid the dining room at any cost. _I just wanted it to be nicer_ , he thinks lamely, _a special evening just for the two of us_. 

“I'm such an arse,” he says. “You hate this room. We should have eaten down in the kitchen.” 

“Not at all,” says Sirius, energetically. “We're dressed much too nicely to have dinner in the kitchen. We're drinking wine from the 18th century, for fuck's sake! It deserves a proper setting.” 

Remus laughs. 

“All right, then. If the wine requires it...” 

Sirius laughs too. 

“Well, all right, it's both the wine and the fact that my mother would hate nothing more than knowing I'm having a nice time in here,” he says, grinning happily. “Shall we move upstairs?” 

Remus allows himself to just stare silently at Sirius' handsome face for a second. 

“Yeah, but not for the reason you have in mind,” he says eventually, rising a finger to stop Sirius' unconvincing attemps at protesting his innocence. “I want to give you my gift first.” 

_Before I lose my nerve_ , he adds mentally. 

** 

“You didn't have to get me anything,” says Sirius, leading the way to the drawing room's sofa, but Remus can tell that he's secretly thrilled at the idea of being given a present. 

“I didn't have to, but I wanted to,” he replies, his heart pounding. He's starting to worry that the thing he's planning to give Sirius will look stupid, or even ridiculous, once he says it out loud. He touches the little box through the fabric of his pocket. _Maybe I could give him something else?_ he ponders, picturing himself dashing to another room to quickly gift wrap his own wristwatch. 

Sirius, apparently oblivious to Remus' worries, smiles up at him from the sofa. 

“Sit down,” he says, patting the cushion beside him. 

“I – I sort of have to, er, get down on one knee for the next part– ” 

“Ooh, I _do_ like the sound of that,” says Sirius, wiggling his beautiful eyebrows. “It's exactly what I had wished for, come to think of it.” 

“ _Not_ in that sense – Merlin's beard, Sirius, you're terrible – just let me finish, will you?” 

“All right, all right, sorry,” says Sirius, making a show of sitting up very properly. He beams at Remus. “You were saying?” 

“Oh, to hell with it,” mutters Remus, his throat completely dry. “It's a stupid idea anyway. Let's just go up to bed, all right?” 

“No, wait, what idea?” 

“It's nothing,” says Remus. “Let's just go upstairs, OK? We'll celebrate properly,” he adds, aiming for a suggestive tone. 

“I'm not letting you get into my pants unless you tell me what your idea was,” threatens Sirius, and Remus can't help but laugh at how quaint the ultimatum would sound if Sirius had an inkling of what Remus' original plan was. Sirius frowns slightly. 

“All right,” sighs Remus eventually “I'll tell you. We'll have a laugh at how silly I get when I'm away alone on a mission, and then we'll get on with our evening. Deal?” 

“Deal. But I doubt your idea is silly, whatever it is,” says Sirius, rather touchingly, squeezing Remus' left hand. Remus smiles. 

“Thank you,” he says, finally sitting down. “So, I was going through my parents' old things, and I found these,” he begins, producing the tiny velvet box from his pocket. “They're my parents' old wedding rings,” he explains, quite unnecessarily, opening the box to show Sirius the two gleaming golden bands within, “and I sort of thought that we could – maybe – you know, that it would be nice if we... see, I told you it was a stupid idea. Let's just forget about the whole thing.” 

“No, wait,” says Sirius, in a very soft voice. “This is the opposite of stupid, if I'm – if I'm not getting ahead of myself. If I understand what you're suggesting we do. Only, we're...” 

“Two blokes, yeah. I know that,” says Remus, grinning. He suddenly feels like a huge weight has been lifted from his chest. “Just a minor snag in my otherwise carefully crafted plan.” 

Sirius grins back. He's so adorable that Remus can hardly stand to look at him. 

“And to think you used to be so good about details, Moony. What a sad thing it is, getting old.” 

“Oh, shut up. You're one to talk – you're positively _ancient_ at this point. But seriously, I wasn't suggesting we get – you know – _legally_ married. Even if they'd let us do that – and I'm honestly not even sure that they wouldn't, now that you mention it, I should look into it properly – but even if we could – there's a bounty on your head, we can't very well stroll up to the Ministry and apply for a license, can we?” 

“Nope,” says Sirius, and to Remus' relief he's still beaming. “Maybe one day, but I'd rather not try my luck just now. But we can definitely – you know, whatever it is that you had in mind. I'd love that.” 

“Glad – glad we're in agreement, then. Now, will you allow me to do this properly?” 

Sirius nods in a very dignified sort of manner. Remus goes down on one knee in front of him, holding the ring box up for display. 

“Sirius... wait, what's your middle name?” 

Sirius barks out a laugh. 

“Right, this sounds like an excellent start to a marriage proposal, not even knowing the other person's full name – it's Orion,” he says, looking at Remus with a perfect mixture of affection and amusement. “Do go on.” 

“Wait, is it really Orion?” asks Remus, putting two and two together. “Are you taking the piss?” 

Sirius laughs again, shaking his head. 

“My mother did not think that one through, no. It really is Orion.” 

“That's amazing,” says Remus, delighted. “Do you think she ever realized?” 

“Oh, I seriously, _seriously_ doubt it. Anyway, weren't you going to ask me something? Before your astonishing display of ignorance so rudely interrupted you?” 

“Like you'd know what my middle name is.” 

“It's John, and I'm starting to think that I should say no. I think I deserve better than this.” 

“Shut up,” says Remus, bashing Sirius' leg with the ring box. “I need to get this over with quickly, my knee is killing me. Do pureblood families in general not believe in carpet, or was it just yours?” 

“C'mon, get up,” says Sirius tenderly, grabbing Remus by his arm. “There's no need for you to be down there.” 

“No, I told you I want to do it properly. OK, here I go. Sirius Orion Black, will you take this ring? You're the love of my life, and I would be deeply honoured if you were to accept this as a token of my everlasting devotion to you, and as a reminder that no matter what may happen in the future, I refuse to let anything tear us apart ever again, and – well, I guess that's the gist of it, actually. I should probably have written this down beforehand – it sounded much more impressive in my head. Oh, and obviously the part about not sleeping with anyone else, but that's probably sort of a given once you go and promise everlasting devotion to someone – anyway – will you? 

“Yeah,” says Sirius, and Remus thinks that he has never seen him look as lovely as he does now. “Of course I will.” 

“Phew,” says Remus, beaming. “Thank you. Right, give me your hand, I need to put the ring on your finger – your _left_ one, Sirius, c'mon. OK, let's see, do you want my mother's ring or my father's?” 

“Your mother's,” says Sirius, after thinking about it for a second. “Oh, give it to me, you're useless at Transfiguring stuff,” he adds affectionately, as Remus struggles with an incantation to enlarge his mother's ring to fit Sirius' finger. “Here.” 

“Thanks,” says Remus, taking the newly resized band from him. “I love you, Sirius. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you,” he adds, and he slips the ring on. “Wow. That was a lovely feeling.” 

“OK, now me,” says Sirius, eagerly, taking Remus' father's ring from the box. He gets down on his knee beside Remus, who's also still kneeling. Remus supposes the scene is probably pretty funny from the outside, but he doesn't care one bit. “Moony – Remus – I love you. I always did, and I always will. Will you be my husband – what?” he asks, grinning, in reaction to Remus' sudden look of outrage. “Well, you see, I'm allowed to call it whatever I want, there's no rule saying we have to paraphrase – it's not my fault you went the complicated route – anyway, is it a yes or a no? Don't leave me hanging, I don't like this half-married state you left me in.” 

“Yes, of course I want to be your husband, you absolute menace.” 

“Excellent. Hand, please,” says Sirius, in a businesslike tone. “Congratulations, Mr Lupin. You've gotten yourself a husband _and_ a dog. Wow, you weren't joking about it being a great feeling,” he adds, gazing lovingly at the golden band on Remus' ring finger. “That was at least in the top five of things I've ever done involving your fingers.” 

“Sirius!” 

“What? A healthy sex life is the cornerstone of a good marriage.” 

“Well, you aren't wrong.” 

** 

“So, Mr Black,” says Remus, waltzing Sirius through the door of his old bedroom. “What are your plans for the night?” 

Sirius starts laughing. After their impromptu vows exchange, they have raided the liquor cabinet in celebration. Remus – who's a noted lightweight himself – doesn't think he has ever seen Sirius get this tipsy before, except possibly at James' wedding reception. _We got so drunk at James' wedding that Sirius later insisted on fucking me_ , he reminisces, adjusting himself under his robes. _I wonder if he could be talked into a repeat performance_. 

“I don't know,” says Sirius, sprawling himself on the bed. “I'm up for anything. What do you have in mind?” 

“No, c'mon, I'm asking you. It's your birthday.” 

“Aw, Moony, don't make me _think_. Just tell me what to do.” 

Remus laughs at Sirius' whiny tone. 

“All right, then,” he says, joining him on the bed. “I'll give you a choice. I can suck you off, or you can fuck me. Provided you're not too drunk for such an involved task,” he adds, lifting one of Sirius' arms and watching it fall back limply. “Or we can just go to sleep, Pads, and do stuff in the morning.” 

“No, wait,” says Sirius, suddenly a lot more alert. “Did you say you'd let me fuck you?” 

Remus laughs again. 

“I love how you're acting like it's some sort of sacrifice I'd be making.” 

“You only let me do it once!” 

“You only offered once, and that was only because you were drunk, as – incidentally – you are now. You spent ages afterwards complaining about how it had been such hard work and blaming me for talking you into it. Which I'm doing now, to be fair, but hadn't done back then.” 

Sirius makes a face. 

“It _was_ hard work, I don't know how you do it so often,” he says, reaching out to casually grope Remus through his robes. “But it was also really fun. And really hot.” 

“Fuck, yes, it was the hottest thing that ever happened to me,” agrees Remus, lazily rubbing himself against Sirius' hand. “I've never been able to have a wank again without thinking about that at some point.” 

“I love to think about you wanking,” says Sirius, his flushed face appearing suddenly a few inches above Remus'. He looks a lot more awake than he did a few minutes ago. “It reminds me of being in school and listening to you touch yourself at night,” he sighs, pressing his body down on top of Remus'. “All through our fifth year, Moony, it's a miracle I didn't go insane. You were such a horrible little tease.” 

“Once again, Sirius, this was all in your head. I wasn't doing it on purpose. I was merely wanking.” 

“Yeah, but you were thinking about me, weren't you?” 

“Of course I was,” pants Remus, kissing Sirius' neck. “I always think about you, how could I not? I've never touched myself without thinking about you.” 

“Even when you thought I was a murderer? Even when you were _a professor_? Merlin's beard, Moony, you're a pervert,” says Sirius, in tones of great amazement, grinding against Remus' crotch. “I don't know if I should be encouraging your sex-crazed ways.” 

“Stop now and I'll jinx you.” 

Sirius grins. 

“You wouldn't. You love me too much.” 

“Watch me.” 

“OK, then,” says Sirius, pinning Remus to the bed. “You leave me no other choice, Lupin. I must restrain you.” 

Remus laughs. 

“Oh man, Pads, you wouldn't last five minutes if you had to do _all_ the work, you're the laziest person in the whole – Merlin's beard, you're serious!” he says, amazed, when he sees Sirius reach for his wand. “You're really going to tie me up. Wow. If I had known that putting a ring around your finger was the secret to getting you to actually _do_ stuff, I would have done it twenty years ago.” 

“Don't get used to it,” says Sirius haughtily, but Remus can tell he's struggling to keep a straight face. “Shall we do away with your robes now? I don't want them to get ruined.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” says Remus, distantly grateful for Sirius' thoughtfulness. “Take yours off too, c'mon. Hurry up – I'm dying here.” 

A wicked grin spreads across Sirius' handsome face. 

“All right,” he says, stroking Remus' flushed cheek with deliberate, maddening softness. “ _Now_ I understand why you generally agree to do all the work. Oh, this is going to be fun.”

**Author's Note:**

> Several things:
> 
> \- I'm tagging this as canon compliant because the books are from Harry's POV and frankly you can't convince me that 15-year-old Harry would notice something as minor as people getting secretly married under his nose.
> 
> \- I know Sirius' middle name being Orion is never mentioned anywhere, but it's genuinely so perfectly in line with Rowling's sense of humour that I refuse to entertain any other theory. Plus it's his father's name, he's the firstborn, etc. etc.
> 
> \- Eventually, I'll have to try shepherd's pie for myself. I think I've put it in every fic where I have mentioned food. Does anyone have a recipe to share?
> 
> \- Wizarding wine keeps longer than Muggle wine does, yes.


End file.
